


princess regnant

by sabinelagrande



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Drinking, F/M, First Time, Maledom/Femsub, Older Man/Younger Woman, Plot What Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Just a late night, an invitation, and a little indulgence.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Katherine Ryan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	princess regnant

It's late; there was a party at Greg's house, and almost everyone has gone home. Roisin got plastered and is passed out in Greg's bed, inexplicably wearing his bathrobe and a wig that no one knows the origin of, but otherwise the house is mostly empty.

In fact, there's nobody left except Greg and Katherine, who are sitting in his front room, Katherine on the sofa and Greg in an armchair, one that would be oversized for anyone else. She's buzzed, but she's not drunk; Greg's not either. She just doesn't really want to go home, too busy having a good time, though right now it's just her and Greg sipping old whisky and talking. She was pouring, but he has since taken over; she's not exactly notorious for her generous mixology, but it's a thing that's not a secret.

She keeps watching his big hands as he holds his glass, the way it looks small in them. There is a definite sexual tension in the room, and Katherine is trying to figure out what to do with it. The reasonable thing is to let it go unacknowledged. They've both been drinking, it's late, people sometimes do things they shouldn't, though hooking up with Greg wouldn't be the worst thing she's ever done. She actually thinks it would be pretty good, even though he's a little too old for her.

Katherine is talking about a travel inconvenience, something that was annoying enough that she keeps telling people about it, even though it really wasn't a big deal.

"Don't pretend like it's not coach when it is coach," she's saying, gesticulating with her whisky. "That's all I'm saying."

"Well, you're a little princess, aren't you?" he says.

Men have said things like that to her before, on multiple occasions. There's something about how Greg says it, with an indulgent, sneaky smile, that hits the core of her; somehow it manages to convey a lot of things very quickly, all of which are shockingly hot.

"And what do you mean by that, Your Lordship?" she says, faking innocence.

"What do you think I mean?" he says, with a sly grin. He crooks a finger at her. "Come and sit in my lap, darling."

"Where's that going to get me?" she challenges.

"Oh, I think you know exactly where," he says. "But I can show you in advance if you like."

Katherine looks him up and down, but she knew she was going to jump at the chance fifteen minutes ago. "Maybe I'll just come over and find out," she says, and she gets up, walking over. She thinks about straddling him for a moment, but she sits on him properly instead, perched on him, not much farther than his knees.

"You'll have to come back a bit, dear," he says, brushing her hair over one shoulder. "There's a lot of me."

"I'll bet there is," she says. She could just push backwards and be flush with him in one movement, but she wiggles back instead, just to wind him up. His cock is hard against her ass, and she can already tell it's going to be the best kind of stretch.

"You'll be a bit more comfortable if I pull this up for you," he says, walking the fabric of her skirt up her legs with his fingers. It does give her more range of motion, which he immediately takes advantage of by easing her legs apart, her knees on either side of his thighs. He is enormous next to her, enough that she feels off-balance, like it would take some doing to even get off him. "Do you like this?"

"Yeah," she sighs, as his hand moves up her inner thigh. At any moment, he's going to find out her panties are already soaked, but that's where they're going anyway.

He stops before he really touches her, when he's maddeningly close to where she wants to be touched. "Oh dear," he says, running his fingers along the edge of her thong. "There's not much to these at all, is there." He slips a finger underneath the fabric, tugging it away and brushing her skin. "What if someone had caught you wearing these?"

"I think you did," she says, and she already feels breathless. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Take them off you as quickly as possible," he says. "What if word got round that you just wore this stuff everywhere, Princess?"

She has to bite back a groan when he uses that word again. It's deeply wrong how satisfying it is to sit on the lap of a much older man while he says shit like that and puts his hand in your underwear. The wrongness makes it even more satisfying, and she's just going to go with it for now.

"I'm probably never going to say this again, but close your legs," he says. "It's only so you can get your knickers down."

"You're way more interested in that second part," she says, but she does it, rolling her underwear down her legs and letting it drop to the floor.

"I really am," Greg says. He takes over again, putting her legs back where they were. Now she's spread out, and somehow it's dirtier that she's still fully dressed; her heels have dropped to the floor, but otherwise she could flip her skirt down and look perfectly normal.

She's not going to. That would be ridiculous.

Katherine sighs as his fingers finally find her. "You do like this, don't you?" he says, running them over her wet folds, and he sounds like he's grinning.

She lets herself relax against him, poured out over him. "If I didn't, I would have gotten up by now."

Greg just laughs, a chuckle that she can feel. He rubs her clit with his thumb, his fingers still toying with her. She's about to tell him to hurry up, but then he's pushing them into her cunt; it's easy, so easy, sliding in slickly, pulling back to push in again.

His hands are huge, and just two of his fingers already feels amazing. She feels how she always does when it's like this, hungry, _empty_. She pushes against them, trying not to grab his whole hand and guide him. It doesn't seem like this is that kind of show.

"Does that feel good, Princess?" he asks, curling his fingers up to find the best spot.

"Yes," she gasps. "Give me more, please."

She's pushy in bed; she doesn't say things like please. But this game they're playing feels so fucking good she can't stand it.

Either way, it gets her what she wants; he moves his fingers faster, with a little more intent behind them. Her knees slide open farther, giving him all the room he needs to work. He brings his other hand into it, one to thrust inside while the other one works her clit, and she's putty in his hands. For once, that's fucking hot, letting him play her like a fiddle; it's not like she doesn't do it to him all the time, just, so far, platonically.

Still, she's not going to come like this, not the way things are going now. She must make some noise of impatience or discontent, because he takes one of his hands away, stroking her thigh. "Do you want more?"

"Please," she whines.

He kisses her temple. "Do you want my cock?"

"Oh, fuck," she says, her head going back to rest on his chest. "Yes, give it to me."

"Lift up," he says, and he guides her, just far enough to give himself room, into a weird hover but worth it. She hears the rasp of his zipper and the sound of tearing foil- he had it in his pocket the whole time, what the _fuck_ \- followed by the plasticky sound of the condom being rolled on.

"Ease back," he says, rubbing the head of his cock over her before pressing it inside. She sinks down onto him little by little; he's fucking huge, and it feels amazing, stretching her out just the way she wanted him to. 

She rolls her hips, trying to spur him on, needing more. "C'mon, move-"

"Good girls take what they're given," he says into her ear, and her spine goes to jelly immediately.

"I'll be good," she says, as he runs his hand up her stomach under her shirt, settling it on her breast.

"Is that true?" he asks. "Or are you pretending to be good to get what you want?"

"Can't it be both?" she replies, and he laughs.

"I'll give you what you need," he says, and she groans as he starts to thrust up into her. His cock's so big she feels like she can feel it in her throat, and every inch of it inside of her is amazing. She does need it, to a degree that's frankly ridiculous, but having it like this is so much better than she could have expected.

She has absolutely no leverage in this position; her feet don't even touch the floor when her legs are spread wide over Greg's lap. He can do anything he likes to her, and she'll just have to let him. _God_ , she wants to let him. He's thrusting up into her hard and pulling her down to meet him, moving her like she's weightless.

"Do you like that, Princess?" he asks, kissing her hair.

It's like that word goes straight up her spine, pushes some so-wrong-it's-right button in her head. "Yes," she gasps. "Oh, fuck yes, give me more."

"Anything you like," he says, and somehow it feels like a lie, like he won't hesitate to withhold on her, but something about that is hot too.

His fingers are digging into her hip hard enough that it almost hurts, and she doesn't even mind. She just wants it so badly that she doesn't know what to do with herself. About the only thing she can do is wind her hips, try to roll into it as he fucks up into her. If she wanted, she could just lay back and let him do absolutely everything, but if she's a princess, she's at least a self-rescuing one.

"Are you getting close, dear?" he asks.

"Yes," she whines, because she is, she really is, too much of his cock filling her up over and over again but just not enough to push her over the edge.

"Touch yourself, Princess," he says. "Bring yourself off for me."

Katherine feels like her whole body is a coiled spring, a jack-in-the-box that won't quite pop. His cock is still so thick inside of her, keeping her spread open, and she's working her fingers but they're not getting her there.

Greg gently brushes her hand away. "I think what you might need," he says, his hand taking its place, "is to lie back and think of England."

It startles a laugh out of her, but she lets him pull her back with the other arm, resting her against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and starts moving again; the change in angle does good things for her, makes it a little shallower. His fingers aren't as skillful as hers on her clit, but somehow it's better, probably just because she's not the one who has to think about moving them.

"Is that better?" he asks, in a voice that sounds like a caress.

"Yes, Daddy," she says, which surprises the hell out of her.

He hums in satisfaction, his fingers moving faster. "Then let Daddy take care of you, Princess."

She groans, overtaken by it; she shouldn't like this at all, and that's almost definitely why she's getting off on it so hard. It's wrong, and satisfying for being wrong, and that special kind of freeing when you let yourself have something you know you're above just because you want it so much.

And Katherine just unlocks, lets herself see this thing to its limit. The limit is just this, stretched out over Greg and letting him have her like he wants, give her what she needs. This time the only thing to do is take it, lose herself in it, between the fantasy and his hands and his body underneath hers, inside hers. All she has to do is let go, and if she can not put her mind to it, she can.

"Can you come for me, Princess?" he asks softly, and it makes her back arch. "Would you do that for me?"

"Daddy," she gasps, her body going tense, and then she melts, the feeling hitting in waves, wrecking her after so much build-up, to the point where she shakes against him. His hips speed up; she thinks he's coming, but it's distant. She wants to make him come, obviously, but she's a little caught up in her own thing right now. He can take care of himself for the time being.

Eventually it levels out, and she's just resting there, his arms around her, feeling fucked out in the best way. She's also a little bit confused as to how any of that happened, but that's something she can unpluck in a minute, when she's done enjoying the afterglow.

He eases her up after a bit, just far enough to pull out of her and do something with the condom; she doesn't actually know what, but it's not her house, so she really doesn't care. She turns, sitting on him sidesaddle, actually able to see his face now, though she almost immediately curls up, putting her head on his shoulder.

"I'd never actually call you a princess unless I was trying to be sexy," Greg says, in a much more normal voice. "I'm not that much of a prick."

"No, I trust you," Katherine says. "It was pretty fucking sexy." She snorts. "If I thought you really felt that way about me, I would have thrown my drink in your face and walked out."

"I think you're lovely as a person, and you know, strong and everything," he says, which isn't the most rousing endorsement, but is good enough. She does amuse Greg, but everyone under six foot three amuses Greg; he does respect her, and that's what actually matters.

"Just to get it out of the way," she says. "I don't even know why I called you daddy, but if you tell anyone, I will legitimately burn your house down."

Greg laughs, full-voiced, and in that way he does, he sounds both shocked and delighted. "There is not a soul on earth who would believe me," he says. "Even if they would, I think that's better kept between us."

"Agreed," Katherine says.

"So if you maybe wanted to do this again-" he says.

"Oh, I'm on this train," she says. "Let's see where this shit goes."

Greg grins. "I like you."

At this point, she feels like she should leave; she has no desire to leave and he has made no motions towards suggesting it, but it's the thing you do. "Shame Roisin took the bed," she says, floating the possibility.

"I'm not above sleeping in my guest room, alone or accompanied," he says, unbothered.

"It seems like it might be a little awkward in the morning," she says.

"I once walked into my own bedroom to find her, naked, in my bed, with a lady and a gentleman whose names I still don't know, and they didn't even ask me to join," he says, sounding just a little annoyed. "She owes me. Forever."

"Then maybe I'll stick around," Katherine says. She's come this far. Knowing her, that means she'll probably go a little farther.


End file.
